Torb and the turret
by Whadafloof
Summary: A story of falling down stairs and being useless in the meta. Warning: strong language.


"My baby! Ohohoho!"  
The Swedish man half laughed half cried while patting the currently small death machine.

The turret made no noise of recognition, but simply continued to sit silently, waiting for something to enter its range.

Continuing to stare longingly at the design the Swedish man could not help but feel sexual attraction to it. Total milf turret when it got to level 3

Finally turning away,Torbjorn rotated his claw idly before running to check over the balcony.

No one at the second capture point of Hanamura yet...

An approaching mumbling had him on guard, his milf turret whirred, as if detecting a possible threat.

A loud smash accompanied by a wail of "TELEPORTER SENPAI! I DID NOT MEAN TO DROP YOU DOWN THE STAIRS DESHU!" Announced Symmetra's presence.

Rolling his eyes, Torbjorn blew a kiss to milfurret before moving out into the corridor, at the end of which was the Indian lady, attempting to duct tape her clearly broken spacial warping device back together.

Clearly broken meaning it made a better jigsaw at the moment. Still, Torbelejorn was nothing if not the most polite small person in Overwatch. Giving a small cough, he spoke:

"Hell-"

As if sensing the sheer amount of Fuk boi the small man was radiating, Symmetra whirled around, looking horrified at the man and his...RED TURRET.

Colour was for losers and Lucio, she had to teach this man a lesson.

"YOU SCOUNDREL YOUR RASCISM AGAINST WHITE TELEPORTERS WILL NOT BE TOLORATED!"  
The architect howled.

Symmetra quickly summoned her dope AF gun and charged up a large energy ball.

"SEE THE TRUE POWER OF MY DANCING SKILLS!" She roared before firing the large ball of very slow sparking energy.

He easily ducked under it, letting it sail harmlessly over him before popping with a sharp crackle as it hit a wall.

Giving a frown she charged up another.

"CHOAS WILL NOT BE TOLORATED!" She yelled again as she fired another orb at him.

He leaned to the right.

Once again the orb passed.

"HOW DID MY WORLD WEAVING SKILLS GO SO WRONG!?" The Indian woman cried, falling to the ground.

"You do not have the power of ARDVAARRKK!" Torbjorn stated loud and proud.

Narrowing her eyes and raising from her defeated puddle of Symmetra and now tangled drapery she thrust her right hand at the man.

"You leave aardvarks alone Mr IKEA man or I'll -"

A loud bang echoed through the shrine and Symmetra was triggered into Indian dancing, resulting in her falling over the balcony ledge while yelling incoherent Hindi.

Whipping his head around at a moderate speed (the two molten metal filled weights on his beard had more than once swung up and knocked him out) he summoned his hammer from God knows where and proceeded to roll down the stairs to investigate.

His rolling was stopped by crashing into one of Zaryas thighs, the 6,4 woman merely raising an eyebrow while her thigh failed to so much as quiver from the impact of fat and molten metal.

"Mr Swedish man, I need armour, my guns are exposed and all the Japanese are scared of them, comrade Hanzos nipples vibrate at the very thought of them"

Still lying on his back (having your own personal forge that was nearly as big as you had downsides) Toblestien nodded, throwing his limbs around like a baby.

After several seconds more flailing Zarya slid her foot underneath his forge and managed to carefully tilt him upwards, being sure to exert as little effort as possible.

Brushing himself down (resulting in covering himself in more grease) the Swedish man grunted.  
"Vell I better get to vork! Comrade Hanzo's nipples are deadly when erect, but there are legends that they produce the finest milk in all ja-

"FIRE IN THE FUCKING HOLE YOU CUNTS!"

A spastic screech filled with so much rage reaper would swoon echoed through the map, causing even Torbjorn beard danglies to blow up and smack him in the face from the sheer anger in the voice.

A small piece of Zarya's hair twitched and she gasped that her saloon hairdo (shoving half a pot of gel into her hair) had malfunctioned due to some cyka blyat fucker.

"Quickly Mr Toblerone! I need armour!"

Huffing to cover up a scared fart, he nodded and mentally activated his molten forge, a dozen kilos of raw metal softened as he heated it and Trobororne got a tiny boner as he felt the raw liquid slosh around.

"O-OOOH MMMYYYYY" cried the dwarf as he shudderd from the forge beginning the process of making an armour plate.

Throwing out his shaking claw arm, he covered his now cherry red face and managed to whimper "A-armour here n-n-Nichan!" With such omega/twink/bottom bitch-ness that every loli girl created became the very image of masculinity and all the fuk boys who read them became gay.

True to his weak words, an armour pack fired onto Zarya, morphing around her body to give maximum protection.

The cooling metal warping around Zarya's muscular frame quickly reignited his gimp suit fetish and his miniature boner sprung up with such force, his fanny amour was sent up like a cat flap being flipped.

Zarya gasped as she noticed his cat flap action and clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Trombone! Your vagigi amour will protect us from Junktwat's wheel of doom!"

Before he could correct her upon the details of his genitalia-Zarya had picked him up and thrown him onto the bridge leading to the point.

It was at that moment Junkrat's ultimate, which had gotten lost and had had to roll to the nearest tourist shop for directions to the second points location-appeared.

It was with a look of fatness and old ugliness that Trobeljorne saw the wheel approaching.

However despite his raging racism and boner he still managed to perfectly recreate the pulse bomb scene from 'alive' pulling the shooty gun from his ass and firing several vaguely accurate shots before finally managing to nick it with the fourth.

Instead of exploding like Tracer's pulse bomb however, it merely let out a farting sound as it slowed down before completely flubbering out.

And instead of jumping through an explosion to take a critical shot, Trambojean let out a loud, wet sounding fart, then proceeded to cry at the fact he could have died.

Since he had his forge integrated into him for whatever reason, the Swede experienced a few quirks that came with it.

The current one being having tears made of molten metal.

Said metal rolling off the fat cheeks and onto the floor.

The wooden floor.

The effect was immediate. (Not counting the ten minutes the dwarf stood and cried while the wood slowly smouldered, finally catching when the stubby failure of a character dropped his oil and grease covered hanky onto it by accident.)

Giving a warbling cry, Trumpetbjorn waddled further onto the point as the fire completely demolished the well varnished bridge and slowly furthered onto the flat each side.

Valiantly, the blonde warbled some more before the need to sneeze occurred, and he shot two jets of molten metal from his nose, setting the flood in front of him ablaze.

As the flames moved ever closer, Torbledoo could not help but feel there was a way he could easily get himself out of this.

As he mused over how much happier his wife would be without him, he suddenly felt the urge to spit out 2 simple words.

The words lodged in his throat, only adding to his breathing problems, refusing to let any air pass lest he release them out.

His lips switched, his forge suddenly began working at a rapid pace-it was destiny.

"MOLTEN CORREE!"

His bellow alone blasted back flames in all directions and as superheated metal flowed through his body-Trobeporn realised he was invincible.

With an angry warble, like the most noble of penguins, the Swedish engineer stomped through the roaring flames like he had been born in them, the sheer ineffectiveness of the fire would make the Pyro from TF2 run in terror, Apollo himself would gasp as the man continued to walk back over to the bottom of the stairs where Zarya still stood (Livestreaming the whole thing under 'Midget burns-FUNNY!' as he would find out later)

With new found confidence he puffed out his glowing chest and twirled his claw as he looked up at the hulking woman.

"Miss Zarya, let us leave this terrible place and kill that smelly garbage man Junkrat"

Nearly swooning from the sheer manliness (and the fumes from the burning wood) Zarya gave a nod accompanied with a "Da!" before taking hold of Torbjorn's hand (leaving him dangling half a foot in the air) and walking into Hanamura town.

"Well gang that was certainly an odd thing to happen, however since the building burnt down we still technically control it so…congratulations?" Winston mumbled awkwardly as he resumed typing on his data pad.

The team around him cheered each planning to drink/dance/cry sadly(Torblebutt) or generally get into mischief under the disguise of 'celebration'

Pulling away from the pad Winston frowned.

"Huh-err one moment team, we have an email from Hanamura it's..A DAMAGE BILL!? Oh, thank god it's for Hanzo-apparently he was the one who helped originally Varnish the woodwork as a child and thus is liable for damage, here you go pal-now let's celebrate!" the ape laughed, the document printing through an integrated printer before being thrown the Japanese man's way.

The team cheered as they left the room, Winston giving Hanzo a smile before practicing his BJ skills on the fourth banana within 2 hours.

Soon only Hanzo remained, shell shocked he stared at the printed document.

Realising there was only one thing to do, he got an undercut, several piercings and gave a child a slice of cake.

Thus leading to 'Reflections'


End file.
